Showering In The Rain Of Faces
by LxIsxJustice
Summary: "So you'll expand my mind?" she asked quietly, remembering what Barton had mentioned once. Loki hastily dropped his gaze to glare at the floor, thinking her to be mocking or reprimanding him. She immediately realized how he'd taken her words. "I think I'd like that." Loki/Darcy.


**Hello! So I just read a rather…life destroying article about Tom Hiddleston. Apparently, when the interviewer called him, he apologized and said he'd just gotten out of the shower. Tom. Tom stop. You are not allowed to say things like that. In fact, you shouldn't be allowed to talk, because everything that comes out of your mouth gets obsessed over by somebody. Do you realize the sheer amount of people who you have probably sent to therapy? I can't get the images out of my head, and this is what you get. This is justice, okay? Me, writing smut about you, to retaliate for your life-ruining schemes. If you don't stop being amazing, I will have no choice but to write more. You won't like me when I'm amorous. And ending rant. This fic was just meant to be pure fluffy Loki-redemption arc yumminess with smut. I wanted to explore Loki's playful side that is in some of the early Thor comics, as well as Darcy's quirky and spazzy personality, along with her intelligence. And this is what I got. Dedicated to my beloved reviewers: Anan Nikoleta, When the Wind Stands Fair, WinterSky101, morningsong101, Huntress Under Seige. You all win all the prizes. :D**

**Written to "Realize" by Colbie Caillat.**

**Disclaimer: …Am I seriously being forced to say that I don't own Loki or Tom? FML.**

If anyone had asked yesterday, "So, Darcy, what are your plans for tomorrow?"

…This would be _exactly _what she replied with.

If anyone had asked, "With who?" She would have never guessed that it would be him.

Not that she was complaining.

"My dear Darcy, might I remind you that you are in nothing but a linen towel and your undergarments, and therefore have no real grounds for intimidation?" The smirk was present, and Darcy couldn't remember any man ever pulling off 'cocky bastard' so well. She wondered how he'd look with other faces. Ones contorted in ecstasy and passion and—_bad Darcy! Down girl!_

"Yup, that's what they say. Unfortunately for you, I have no qualms with exposure, and so I have half a mind to take the towel_ off_, and dole out a few rat tails," she said, smiling innocently, laughing when Loki's face faltered into amusement rather than an unreadable mask.

"When one has lived with Thor and his companions for a few millennia, and then lives within the 'Avenger's Tower'," he made a face, as though the name could use some improvement. "One grows somewhat used to things like rat tails and food fights. The exposure however," he grinned, leering at her in a way that made her realize why people actually said 'squee' out loud. "_That_, I think will be a much more advantageous weapon."

She hummed absently, studying the lines of his face and the high cheekbones that cast soft shadows in the light of early morning. _It's not even eight, _she thought._ Why is he up? Not that I can talk._ He sat on the bed, his eyes watching her in much the same manner, taking in detail and perhaps seeing below. Darcy had no idea how deep his abilities went; she hadn't spent much time talking to the demigod in the five months she'd been here. Thor and Jane were inseparable, and with Thor came a—supposedly—reformed Loki. So far, he'd been true to his word, partaking in only 'meager mischiefs' as Loki put it. 'Really-super-epically-awesome pranks' was Tony's term of choice. It was…sort of weird to see the Metal Avenger and Loki scheming together. But always funny, when someone ended up with arrows that exploded glitter and a little flag that said 'SASSinated!' or got random invitations from various co-workers to join them for fondue night. There was an interesting week where Darcy actually wondered if Steve was going to retaliate. The mad gleam in his eyes made her wonder if the serum had a Jekyll-Hyde effect too. That would probably make Bruce feel a lot better.

She realized they had been silent for almost three minutes. _Not awkward though_, she mused. "So, you're an early riser?"

He inclined his head, taking the subject change gracefully. "I am. I can't recall a time when I wasn't."

She groaned. "Oh _god_, you're one of _those_ people, aren't you? Those crazy people who wake up singing _Zip-A-Dee-Do-Da_ and have birds flying around them while they go have a cup of tea—not coffee like _decent_ people—with Mr. Rogers?"

She received a blank stare. His eyebrow quirked slightly, displaying his confusion. "Perhaps…I am missing Midgardian references again? I'm afraid the only Mr. Rogers I know is the Captain, and…I am not sure I wish to know what lyrics would accompany a song called '_Zip-A-Dee-Do-Da'_." His face turned incredulous. "But I'm fairly certain my rising routine is not as…odd as that."

"I can't believe Tony hasn't used that reference yet," she muttered under her breath. "Anyways, so I'm assuming we're having this conversation while I'm in a fluffy towel for a reason, right?" If he was getting whiplash from her random train of thought, he didn't show it.

"Of course. I wish to use your bathing facilities."

"…Pardon?"

He sighed. "Tony has seen fit to get me back for a small grievance from a few days ago. He has turned my water off for an indeterminate period of time. I would see to the_ problem_ myself, but I don't know enough about Midgardian technology to fix it manually or with magic, and he is currently hiding in his room with Ms. Potts. Frankly, I am not certain of the amount of danger to my life I'd be risking should I interrupt their…relations."

Darcy wanted to pat his head at his adorably roundabout way of saying sex. "Yeah, I think Tony would go psycho if he got blue balls. No offense, Frosty." She sniggered at Clint's nickname for him when he had to let go of his Aesir form in order to fight. He was gorgeous either way, but it would probably be a long time before he allowed himself to be even a little comfortable with his other form. She wondered if he had ever talked to Bruce about it.

He waved off the nickname. "It's not Tony I'm particularly afraid of."

She burst into laughter, knowing full well that his wary reverence of Pepper was shared by all of the men in this building. _Especially_ when she had Natasha backing her up every time Tony did something stupid. Her grin spread wider when she saw his small smile of…of something. She didn't know what to call it. From what she'd seen, and from what others told her, Loki was a man of masks. Of facades. So she didn't know if this was amusement or happiness or something else entirely. _I want to learn his faces._ The brief thought didn't startle her all that much; he was ethereal and cunning and dancing the line of eccentricity and madness. He was hot. So Darcy didn't blame herself too harshly. A long span of virtually no love life can do that.

"Okay. I guess you can use my shower. Let me grab another towel," she said, before he suddenly waved his hand through the air, one appeared and she jumped. His smile was, perhaps, just slightly more hesitant.

"Forgive me. I noticed you had no others in your closet. I doubt you wish to go meandering looking for one while not dressed."

"Don't care about nudity, remember? But that's pretty convenient. Damn, now I wish I had gotten my Hogwarts letter. Why did I have to get stuck with muggle parents?" she sighed dramatically.

"Magik is not easily learned, but it is something I believe you could do, if you wished. Harry Potter may be an entertaining film, but it's completely nonsensical in the realm of true sorcery." Those had been the first movies the Avengers had watched as a team. They insisted Steve and Thor, and by extension Loki, get caught up on the brilliance of post seventies movies. All of them…were _slightly_ obsessed with quoting it.

"For real? I don't even have a grasp on my _own_ world's science." But the idea was tempting. She'd get to spend time with Loki. _Why_ she wanted to spend time with Loki had a little more gray area, but it would be nice to be useful in_ something_.

"Perhaps that is why you might have potential in mine. Perhaps your mind does not comprehend Midgardian science because this world is too _small _for your mind," he said with feigned nonchalance, eyes not quite on her. Darcy stared at him for a few moments. _He…he just called me smart, didn't he?_ That…was new. People usually said she was weird and eccentric, but never intelligent enough to do much but be a secretary sidekick.

"So you'll _expand my mind_?" she asked quietly, remembering what Barton had mentioned once. Loki hastily dropped his gaze to glare at the floor, thinking her to be mocking or reprimanding him. She immediately realized how he'd taken her words. She took a few steps closer to his perch on her bed, almost reaching out to take his hand before mentally slapping herself. "I think I'd like that."

His eyes came back up to hers slowly. They looked at each other, gauging reaction, until he smiled. It wasn't wide and it didn't contain eye-crinkling happiness, but it was…so soft. Different from most of his others. She stifled a giggle. _I'm so screwed._ Well, if she was going to fall, she'd have to flop around for a little to get him to trip over her.

"So!" She clapped her hands together loudly, Loki not so much as twitching at the sudden burst of noise. "You have a towel, I have a shower, let's suds up." His eyebrow rose, probably questioning her sanity.

"I was not aware that Midgardians had communal bathing as well. The others seem to prefer to shower by themselves or with their lovers," he said wryly, standing and looking down at her for a moment. Then he was stepping towards the bathroom and looking back to her with a small smirk. "But I might have misunderstood."

He disappeared into the washroom and Darcy took a moment to flail out a happy dance before skipping to the washroom as well.

xXx

The steam rose in soft tendrils and wisps around the warm room. Beads of moister dewed on the ornate mirror; the rustling of clothes could just be heard over the steady drumming of water droplets on the tile floor of the small shower. Darcy probably hadn't thought she'd need a larger one.

_I'm waxing poetic, _he mused. He pulled his green sweater over his head and folded it on the marble sink counter before working at his belt and black pants. He could just magik them away, but he couldn't help wanting to please Darcy. He could feel her eyes on him, and when he turned with the button of the Midgardian attire undone, her gaze shamelessly took him in. _How unusual for a human to be so comfortable with herself._ Her eyes roved from his stomach to his chest, meandering along his neck and to his eyes. He pushed down any thought of insecurity or not living up to the muscle and bulk that was considered a male's beauty in Asgard. He found he actually could do it too, if she kept looking at him in such a way.

She smirked and let the towel slide down to her waist, revealing the top part of her undergarments. The room got a few degrees warmer—rather unfortunate for a Jotun—but he let very little slip. This was now a contest.

She did a small shimmy of her hips and scooted the towel further down until she pulled it off and draped it over a chair for later. Her brassiere was a sunny shade of yellow-gold, and her knickers a vibrant pink. He smiled. _Mismatched, colorful, and completely her._

He tilted his head before pivoting around to face the other wall so she could fully undress, drawing this game out for all it was worth. He waited until he heard the sound of her moving into the shower before he stripped completely and stepped towards the pattering of the water as well. Not fully at ease with his own display of hesitance, he took a breath before walking into the shower and slid the door shut. It was small, but not uncomfortably so. Any discomfort was due to an entirely different reason.

Darcy had her eyes shut, smiling a happy little smile as the water cascaded through her dark hair and down her back, following the curve of her spine. He didn't know what he was allowed at this moment, and so he kept his lips from following the droplets right now. He slowly reached a hand past her to the soap, and her eyes opened blearily, looking back at him with a lazy grin that reminded him of a kitten just woken from a nap. The creatures Ms. Potts often brought home made the same expression.

She turned to face him, and he decided that if she'd had a problem with him seeing her in a state of undress, she wouldn't have invited him in. So his eyes traveled her frame, noting small freckles here and there and pen drawings that she'd often make when she was bored. There were some stars and a few swirls on her leg, and a reminder to make Bruce and Tony eat on Tuesday when Pepper was going to be busy on her arm. His eyes came back up to hers, laughter in them.

"What? I'm forgetful, okay? We can't all be Pepper Potts," she said cheekily. Her own gaze was looking once more, admiring him in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever been admired before. He'd lain with others of all species and races, of course. One doesn't live for millennia without that particular experience, but even still. It was…altogether different, having Darcy look at him with slightly parted lips and glassy eyes. He was not overly fond of sentiment, not pleased by it usually, but this…he could appreciate. He was fairly certain he had the same expression as she. They could blame it on going too long without, but Aesir (and Jotuns) did not have the same need for carnal activity that humans seemed to have—that didn't mean they didn't partake frequently—and Midgardian women did not seem to have a time of being in heat, per-se, as most other species did.

So the only conclusion he could arrive at was that Darcy was just being Darcy and confusing him while simultaneously drawing him further in. He could live with that. He'd seen stronger men fall for less. She was mystery and myth.

So he kissed her.

She gave a sigh that said 'about time' and melded soft lips cool and wet with water to his. Their tongues twined immediately, fervently, neither letting the other come up for air. The second meeting of mouths was softer, but no more lacking in passion than the first. Her teeth bit his lip, making him grin and return the favor on her neck. He nibbled his way down the column of soft skin, leaving no marks—she had not deemed herself his yet, and she would likely not appreciate having to explain to the others. Instead, their lips drank again before he moved to lay soft kisses on her shoulder, brushing back and forth, tongue taking the paths of the water and the contours of her shoulder blades. He straightened back up, and watched her when she hazily opened her eyes to see him lather his hands with the small cake of soap. Peppermint and jasmine, her favored scent. And his, if it was on her.

He wondered if she would find it odd for him to enjoy when she used the soap, but he didn't care at the moment. Putting down the bar, his hands turned her and began to languorously knead her neck, making small circles on her shoulder and sweeping along the small of her back. He knelt to wash her legs and calves, and she took in a sharp breath. He grinned, knowing why she reacted. Looking up he raised his eyebrows innocently, as if daring her to comment about his current position on his knees. She laughed and ran her hands through his dark hair. "You know something's wrong with the world when a god kneels to_ me_. I think I'll savor this for a minute. I should've brought my camera. I need to stop talking or it's never going to happen again, is it?" She batted her eyelashes at him playfully, only for them to flutter for real when his mouth moved along her hip and inner thigh.

"Mm, perhaps. My lovely Darcy, I am the God of _Chaos_. What good would I be if I didn't break my own rules every now and again?" he quipped.

"Not very good. I like _this_ kind of good better," she murmured, lightly stroking her fingers along his face and mentally cheering when he leaned into the touch a little. His eyes, dark now, searched hers, and again she wondered how much he could see. She hoped he could see everything. He would have no room for doubt if he could. She wanted this, she wanted him, and she wanted to see where it all could go. If this continued beyond the morning, she gave herself about a week and a half before she was in love enough to talk political stances. Another half a week before someone on the team figured it out, and maybe another day or so before Jane started talking marriage and babies.

She was looking forward to all of it.

Loki pressed his lips to Darcy's stomach, trying not to look at the far-off, happy expression on her face. He was going to fall, he knew that. He was just tumbling a little too easily for his liking. And then her hand stroked once more through his hair, and he decided his pride could go fornicate with itself and leave him to enjoy the moment.

Darcy knew the others' nickname for him was Silvertongue, and _that _was a completely understated description. Her head knocked into the shower wall when his mouth found her core, the rhythmic gliding of his tongue within her was hypnotic and _goddamn_ was this even legal? His hands slid up her sides that quivered with her habit of not breathing during sex, and one rested against her waist while his other held her hip to bring her closer.

Her legs tensed at the onslaught of sensation when they moved to her breasts and teased there as well. "F-Foul play!" she gasped out before she moaned when his laughter vibrated against her. "I call penalty!" Loki leaned back with a half-grin-smirk that was_ far_ too attractive in her opinion and licked his lips, earning a frustrated growl that sounded funny on Darcy's sweet voice. She was so different. It made him want more.

"I'm afraid we don't have anyone to judge that, my Darcy." It wasn't escaping her that he was forgoing the 'dear' or 'lovely' before her name. She nearly purred.

"I can go get Tony if you'd like. I think he knows all the little fine print in the rules anyways."

He made a nearly horrified face. "No, no, I think I shall concede the penalty to you. You are an admirable 'opponent'," he jested, pleased that perhaps he had met one who could be an equal, a partner, for him. He could not surpass Thor in his father's eyes, or Asgard's, or even here on Midgard, but…maybe he could be happy with someone who would stay by him despite this. He wondered if Darcy could be that to him.

She knelt as well, on eye level with him and her eyes sparked with a heady mixture of lust, intrigue, and perhaps a few droplets of something that could blossom into more. He was anticipating finding out eagerly. They stood together for a few moments, before she grinned in a way that promised more promises. He'd hold her to all of them. Their mouths met again, each becoming more acquainted with the small nuances of the others lips; the language they could speak with them.

"Penalty play is now in effect," she breathed against his ear. Their tongues dueled and the battle was glorious _and_ lengthy. Her arms wrapped around his back in a show of openness, pressing her body flush against his. He couldn't help the mostly-strangled sound that managed to escape him. She repeated the movement, brushing his aching length before he could rally himself. This time the sound had more volume and was much more needful than the last one. _Penalty indeed._ His breathing sped considerably when her hand grasped him intimately, her palms soft and her fingers callused from filing papers and writing all the time.

Darcy breathed sharply when his tongue traced her collarbones and his nose slid along her neck to her chin and placed a light kiss against her mouth. "Not fair. I should demand another penalty." Her breath stopped altogether when he did it again. "Aargh! Stop it, Loki!" she ranted for a moment when he nibbled at her ear. "I already have a bad habit of not breathing when I make love! I'm telling on you! The others will have to hear of this scheme to kill me with asphyxiation!" She said dramatically, stopping Loki in his tracks. _She'd said…_

Her smile was vibrant and beautiful, and all he could do was stare. It faltered and he could have kicked himself for whatever put that little crease between her brows. "Loki…?"

"Say it again," he demanded.

"Huh?"

"Say…say what you said before."

"You're trying to kill me with asphyxiation?"

"Before that."

"I have a habit of not breathing when I make love?"

His eyes closed and he kissed her, despite the fact that kissing is difficult to do when laughing. She went with it, until he disengaged and looked at her warmly. Her insides squirmed and pancaked around at the openness of his expression. "Is that what we're doing?"

"Um…making love, you mean?" She paused, realizing the significance of what she had just said. Her lips twitched, and then turned into a grin. "Yeah. Yeah, I think that's right. You don't mind if we re-schedule falling in love from next Friday, do you?" He quirked a brow and she sighed gleefully when he nodded.

"I think arrangements can be made."

"Good."

They stood, in a loose embrace of ease, Darcy leaning against Loki and fitting his contours nicely. She liked puzzles, and their shapes matched. It pleased her to no end. "Darcy?"

"Yeah?" He didn't reply, and she laughed when she felt him shift slightly against her. "_Duh_, whole reason we're here, right? I already gave my permission." They brushed lips for a second more before he gently took hold of her hips and slid into her, both of them moaning at the sensation, high and low tones complimenting the steady drum of water against the tile floor.

"Holy shit, I'm having sex with a Norse God…" Darcy muttered before speaking became impossible. Gasps and moans and clutching hands and twining legs and melding lips and fervent bodies; they loved again and again, both unwilling to leave the shower until Darcy suggested they try the bed. "And then maybe the desk? Or I think Tony hasn't gotten to the new dining room table yet, if you want to claim that as 'our spot'." The pair never really quite knew how they got here, to this point, to know each other in this way. Darcy watched Loki's face in each expression he possessed, and each was subtly different and overwhelmingly beautiful. Loki watched as Darcy lost herself again and again, and he was more than happy to navigate with her. Darcy was never one to question fate, and Loki was grateful fate was having a bit of compassion at the moment. They could worry about the future later.

For now, they'd just stand under the still warm water, making love and showering in the rain of the other's faces.

**Read and Review! Hope you liked it.**


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